Okay, so, let’s just get this out of the way — Necrotech is a fucking blast. (If you’re a fan of my Miriam Black books, I posit you might like the hard-heeled throat-kick that this book provides. It’s edgy, don’t-give-a-shit fiction, which is probably my favorite non-genre genre.) Anyway, K.C. Alexander, who is a delight, is here to flip the script on you.

* * *

So, NECROTECH is out. Awesome. I’m pretty well excited for this one. Granted, it helps that it’s been three years in the making, and a lifetime in the learning, so I think my patience is as stretched as it’s going to get. It’s already snapped once.

But then, that snap heard ‘round my world is probably the reason I find myself in the position that I am: with a new agent, in a new genre, writing under a new name, divorced, in the studio apartment of my dreams (well, almost, needs more Hawaii), and working with a publisher who gives two flying douchenuggets and a bleached shitstain whether or not I’m “aggressive.”

You see, being aggressive is a compliment when you’re a guy. Writing a balls-out, kick-ass female character with little interest in redemption, a mouth foul enough to make a sailor flinch, and a propensity for blood and death is a bonus when you’re a man—or have the right sort of public manly support.

But when you’re female-presenting? Being “aggressive” is the same as being a bitch. Now you and I both know that bitches get shit done, but you know what they also do? Piss off fragile egos. Primarily male, but there’s plenty of room in the Big Book of People Aggressive Women Piss Off for a wide array of samples. Women are expected to be nice. Period.

One of the first compliments I received on NECROTECH was for Riko: “She reminds me of a cyberpunk Miriam Black.” Yaaaaassssssss. Given I’d set out to write an unapologetic thug of a woman with all the sexual and behavioral agency of a man, I took that as an immensely on point compliment. Riko is not a woman who cares what you think about her—so long as she’s got your attention. Love her, hate her, fuck her, fight her; as long as it’s her, she’s good.

Redemption is a word that belongs on a tattoo. Probably with, like, bloody hearts or roses or something.

With this wholehearted, bleeding wreck of a badass woman in hand, I sent my manuscript out to publishers. I did so under my previous author name—an obviously female romance author, a steampunk urban fantasy author, often accused in both of not having enough romance in my works. Or being too hard. Or too gritty. An easy transition, I figured.

So off the book went, after revisions my agent at the time asked for (revisions I’d realize much later felt like selling out to me). It wasn’t sent to romance lines—save one or two, who were dabbling in more SF/F at the time. But it was, as it turned out, sent to editors who were not ready to deal with… well, me.

The responses I’m about to list out are real, but paraphrased because, you know, I’m not trying to be an ass. Just reporting the rejections I had to wade through.

“There’s too much romance in this book.” This one makes me laugh. Once you read Necrotech, you will absolutely understand why, but for those of you may not want to, here’s the short version: Riko gets less onscreen ass than most male SF/F heroes whose goal is to “save the girl,” but she has all the sexual agency of any man ever. She likes people. Sex is a thing. So she comments on it. Blatantly. That’s romance, now? …Has anybody warned the SF/F writers with sexual material in their books?

Otherwise, all I’m left to consider is that my name, linked to past romance books, told them I’d sneak romance in—somehow magically under all the words on the pages they were (or were not) reading?

“I don’t know what Karina’s intentions are, but this is absolutely the wrong direction for her to take.” This one pissed me off. Can you guess why? Another short version: because an editor decided that my leaving romance, my writing “like a man,” was the wrong decision. That because I was a) a woman, b) a romance author, or c) me, that I could not be encouraged to take a path—that anecdotally, historically, statistically is reserved for men.

“It’s just too hard and unrelenting for the direction of this line.” Fine, fine, that’s absolutely fair enough! … Of course, the other editor then signed an equally as hard, if not harder and more unrelenting, author a few weeks later. We could chalk this up to “that’s the biz, yo.” I mean, luck and who you pitch to and all that is so very much a thing. And maybe it was exactly that. But it was also shitty timing.

I’d also like to note that most of the rejections came in with praise—brilliant pacing, very well written, the character just leaps off the page. But…

Too hard. Too aggressive. Too much romance. Too much focus on physical description. (Given this is an incredibly diverse cast of characters, that’s a whole other post on a whole other day—I don’t have the spoons right now to unpack that one. Subtext is a bastard.)

Two years ago, when I got my last rejection decrying my efforts to write a bold, badass woman in the vein of what I dare to call “man-SF/F” firmly tongue in cheek, I shelved the book and returned to writing what everyone said I did best—woman books, romance books, redemption books, hero books. Safely ensconced in the genre that the industry had decided I belonged.

And then something changed.

One day, I cracked open Riko again. I stripped out all the edits that pulled her punches, removed all the requested softening that made her “likable”. I sharpened her edges and bloodied her wake and as I lifted layers and layers of “be nice” and “be likable” and “be considerate and respectful and submissive,” I realized how much of that bullshit I’d internalized. How much of the gendered expectations of women authors in any genre are encouraged to absorb. “Be glamorous, ask instead of declaring, soften your questions, pitch your voice high, defer to industry standards that have been around for a hundred years.”

Never let them see you struggle.

My life has been a struggle since the moment I was born. My marriage was a struggle. My career a struggle. My finances are a struggle, my depression is a struggle, my desire to stop kissing ass and start kicking it is a struggle that feels like it never ends. The gendered expectations around me are a struggle.

Sometime over the next year, I scrubbed Riko free of the stain of those expectations and as I did, I scrubbed them off me, too.

It was hard fucking work.

The first thing I had to lose was my name. My name, you see, is incredibly feminine—so feminine that I have never really liked it (sorry, mom and dad). When you see the name “Karina,” you cannot help but thing “girl.” Girl. (Or Karina Smirnoff, and rowrrrrr, but definitely womanly.) Karina is a girl’s name. It’s a romance author’s name. It’s the name of a girl who grew up internalizing the expectations levied upon a girl, a woman, a female author, a romance author.

It declared loudly on the cover, “This sci-fi was written by a girl!”

Not that anyone pays attention to the gender of the name on a book, amirite? That’s okay. I just made it easy to ignore entirely. That’s why I chose the name I did. It’s me and not me but it’s way more me than Karina Cooper was allowed to be.

My perseverance landed a new agent who will swing hard and fight smart for me and my work, who is patient and supportive and doesn’t expect anything of me but what I want to write. I landed a publisher who read Necrotech and immediately loved her aggression, her swagger, and my words. “Go harder,” they said. “Go edgy and bloody and raw.”

Somewhere between that last rejection and this book launch, three years in the making, I stopped sitting down when told to. I started to stray from my lane—and when I realized how much hate I got for doing it, I also realized people do not like it when a woman is anything other but what a woman should be.

Well, I am a pansexual nonbinary fierce motherfucker and I will write what I know. Keep up.

As Necrotech launches, I’m daring you—yes, you—to read Riko’s story without any gendered expectations at all. To get to know Riko from page one and take her as she is. To love her, hate her, want to fuck her, want to fight her; whatever it is she makes you feel, I dare you to feel it without mentally adding “like a man” or “like a woman.”

And then when you deal with me, online or in person, I dare you to do the same. You can call me Kace when you do.

* * *

K.C. Alexander is the author of Necrotech, an aggressive transhumanist sci-fi with attitude. She has contributed SF/F stories to Geeky Giving and Fireside Fiction, obsesses over art journals and washi tape, and will not tolerate your shit. Visit at kcalexander.com.

I’ve struggled with this with my WIP. My MC was a snobby little bitch my readers generally found intolerable. So I softened her. Made her more “human” (I guess). She’s still a handful, but not the raging bitch I first envisioned. I find she has more depth now, but I hate that people are so threatened by aggressive women.

Pff. I have a story that I’m trying to rework because she isn’t nice. She’s aggressive (the most aggressive thing she does is shout at the guy who literally left her to die!) and reckless (true) and not likable (maybe? I’m not sure). The weirdest was relatable but not likable enough.

Am I trying to change her to be warmer and more likable because that makes my writing better or because it is a feminine book by a femininely named author. (Also I love that my auto correct tried to make that feminist. Thank you autocorrect.)

The trick I’ve heard for this is called the Harry Dresden test. Seanan Maguire did it for Toby, iirc. Do a Find/Replace in a copy of the MSS and replace every instance of your Main Character with Harry Dresden.

Is the character still relatable but not likable enough? Are they still “too aggressive” or are they now a take-charge type?

If a simple gender swap fixes all the “character problems” or turns a “too aggressive” into “too meek” then it’s issues with gender. Otherwise, it’s only maybe issues with gender.

Inspirational. I had lunch with a friend today and discussed some of the stuff our so-called friends had twisted us with over the last few years. How really twisted and simply nasty they were. I felt I should write them. Then I realise I never write nasty women, well, unless they’re also aliens. Time to change…
Thanks 🙂

I noticed this, too. Women writing sci-fi (gasp!) are expected to write “character driven/emotional” plots with only female MCs. As if only men can write “hard” sci-fi. As if women can’t write male characters, while it’s totally okay for men to write female characters (some very very poorly). I’ve been asked, “Why isn’t your MC a female?” I’m sure no one ever asked that of a male writer…Grrr.

I write paramilitary with strong female characters who, for the longest time, I toned down to make them less ‘manly’ despite their roles requiring they be exactly that. Only in the last few years have I said, “fuck it” and wrote them to be the women they were meant to be, deciding I would prefer to remain unpublished than continue cheating my characters out of being who they were meant to be.

Your post gives me hope that one day not only will strong, kick-ass characters be accepted but so will the women who write them.

Sci Fi and fantasy is pretty much the only genre i read in. Sure i have my favourite authors like everyone, but i don’t care who is writing a book, if its male or female, as long as its a story i can connect with.

“The first thing I had to lose was my name. My name, you see, is incredibly feminine.”
So: instead of a “wholehearted, bleeding wreck of a kickass woman” character being presented to the public as created by a woman, you decided on a wholehearted, bleeding wreck of a kickass woman written by a pair of initials.
I’m a man writing a suspense series for women, with a woman protagonist. Initially, I thought it would be best to do the same thing: to conceal my gender by using my initials. After all, 90% of both men and women readers read only books written my writers of their own gender. But then I decided that kind of thinking was gutless, and I kept my name on my books. You chose differently, and from a business standpoint, it’s the right move. But please don’t sell this decision in other terms.
What I’m saying here is that, in using your initials, you didn’t do anything kickass at all. You caved to the same influences your rant attacks.
One other thing: does it ever bother you that you may not have freed yourself at all, but have just absorbed all the standard tropes and clichés reflected in testosterone-driven books for men?

Your judgment is staggeringly clear, but I understand what you are trying to get at. Fact is, I am not out to present Riko as a badass character written by a woman. I’m out to present Riko as a badass character. Full stop. And the experiences I had with her proved that my perceived femininity was a problem. People couldn’t get past that to see the badass character.

The fact I had to change my name to initials was both a business issue AND a personal one—did you miss the part where I said I had to free myself too? Non-binary, friend. That means I’m not out to BE a woman. I simply present like one. And for many, that presentation is all they need to assume everything about my gender. As you did.

In using my initials, I freed myself of the expectations demanded of anyone who appears female. You could say the same of any man who chose initials, except free himself ffrom the “expectations of writing as a man”.

I don’t expect you to understand. You seem very comfortable in your identity and your view of the world and that’s great. The pride with which you say you kept your name is great. However, your statistics are massively off. Books written by men that feature a woman are still much more acceptable to the industry; see: Chuck Wendig’s Miriam Black. Yourself. Many more, but you can do the research yourself.

So your privilege is that you really don’t have to change your name in order to buck expectations in the industry. Congratulations. That’s a great place to be.

The thing to your other thing: No. It never bothers me. And until you read the book to see if I did that? You shouldn’t be bothered by it, either. After all, the standard cliches and stereotypes are testosterone-driven narratives FOR MEN. BY MEN. As Riko is not a man, and I am not either, and the stereotypes by the same men demand woman characters behave in a totally non-testosterone way? I’m pretty confident you’re wrong, there.

Until you live in this world as a woman, you can’t possibly know what it is to free yourself from it.

Good luck with your suspense series. May your ability to freely write without judgment serve you well.

No. I will blame the industry and the readership that continues to assume that women cannot write “real” SFF. That is where the blame lies—with those who propagate the frankly bullshit belief of gendered segregation.

Initials help women get past the first hurdle.

Also? R. R. Martin has a rather telling first name attached. No mystery gender there.

I was in a group where a person, a millennial artist who is also a feminist and a lesbian introduced me to Chuck Wendig. There was a guy in the group, my age, Gen X. I didn’t know it, but he was The ANTI-CHUCK WENDIG. He was/is very good at details that me and my girl brain are not good at. He’s nice. He never said anything sexist. He did whine a little when I told the group about an all female Cuthulu Anthology up for Submissions. (This anthology was blasted with male hate, but ended up selling.) I found it odd that he appeared grossed out when I talked about Half Bad, a male gay love story with magic. Because…

He REALLY likes lesbians. Like his FB pic is a rainbow and his cover page was once cartoon lesbians making out. (Again he’s about 40 with a wife.) His characters were usually hot and in their twenties. (My characters are all ages but I am focusing on older teens so who am I to judge.)

As the group went on the guy’s stories began to be more and more about S&M. Again I thought I am no one to judge because my stories tend to have S&M “age appropriate” (?) undertones. I usually explore why people like to be treated badly and then they discover that they actually DON’T like to be treated badly. They just think that is the only way to get love and then, they discover THAT’S Bull SHIT. Then they demand better treatment.
Anyway, this guy’s stories began to be more and more about pain, violence, and abuse. Girl on girl. I am not a prude. I hate censorship. But, My stomach kept turning. Here was the reason: His female characters actually LOVE pain and abuse. Everything is just a set up for them to experience pain and abuse. NOT to overcome pain and abuse or to take control of it but to experience it. THIS IS THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT CHUCK DOES. I THINK IT IS THE OPPOSITE OF WHAT ANY “FEMINIST” WRITER DOES WHETHER THEY WRITE ABOUT LESBIANS, GIRLS, BOYS OR SHEEP.

He also, very nicely, thought my female character an 18 year old girl with PTSD who acts like a bitch to protect herself was really “too bitchy” and “not likable.” One time I think he was right, but that was the point. He didn’t get it.

When I wrote scenes where she was obviously acting out of fear because she thought the male character was threatening he thought she was still too bitchy. Meanwhile, he went to straight F/F porn and writes under a woman’s name. Also, his stories got worse and worse to the point of unconscious sex. He also had one woman my age as a matriarchal figure. She was referred to as old. Again we are both 40.

So, several points: 1) WE DESPERATELY NEED PEOPLE LIKE CHUCK.
2) Be happy when your female character is a bitch. I’m sure some people will also think she’s too into her boyfriend no matter what I do.
3)Think about what your bitch is doing and why she’s doing it. She doesn’t even have to be sympathetic, but what she’s doing has to make sense to you as something another human being would do unless you are just writing porn. Human beings do some weird stuff. You have a wide playground. But, if you just want to write porn go ahead. I don’t have to read it.

I bought this book because of this post and I honestly can’t wait to read it. It’s really fantastic to hear that you found a better place for yourself and your work by doing what felt right for you on the page. I’m unpublished, and I worry a lot about the seeming impossibility of that. I’m so aware of genre conventions now that I have a hard time being alone with what I’m writing, if that makes sense? And then I write garbage, of course. Appeasement garbage, or solicitous garbage.

[…] intrigued enough prior to Necrotech’s release to do some worthwhile internet stalking (read this interview or this one to see what I mean). Definitely have fallen in love (or lust) with her writing style! […]